The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1887-09-29
HIS FIRST LOVE.

There was strip of pine woods
along the Saltwater Turnpike, just be-
fore you came to Martin Leaver's farm
house. And it had the reputation of
being the darkest piece of road at
night in the country.
That was the reason Millie Leaver,
who was obliged to drive to the vii
lage nearly every afternoon. always
made it a point, if possible, to get
through these woods before sunset.
But upon this particular June day
she had fingered at a shop to select
ribbons and feather for her last
summers bonnet. which she was max
ing with her own ever-busy hands.
1t takes deal of time to pick out
such tritles, especially when one has
only half-sovereign with which to
pay for them.
Hence, the sun was sinking behind
western cloud-b bank before Mile drove
the sorrel horse and rusty wagon out
upon the lonely road.
Il don't care: Pm not one bit
afraid" Mile declared, as the little
horse, which was far from being
marvel of heetness, ambled home
ward.
She began to hum lively air, and
fell to debating with herself whether
the lighter shade of blue would not
have been more becoming to her
blonde prettiness than the dark which
she had chosen.
Miss Tucker will exchange them
for me tomorrow if | decide to take
the light" she finally decided.
And having disposed of the matter
temporarily, she was at liberty to
notice how very, very dark it was
growing.
The sun had gone from view entire
ly, and the cloud-bank was overspread-
ing the whole horizon. And just
ahead was the strip of pines, through
which the narrow road led its dark,
sinuous course.
''Do go faster. Billy-can't youp"
she implored.
She made an Intellectual attempt to
apply the short, worn out whip-in-
effectual because in her nervous haste,
it slipped from her hand and fell
under the wagon. She would hardly
been made of gold.
DlllI vas a dDlY Sdlt dululdl,
to say the least. He had no fear of
going through the Leaver woods upon
the darkest night ever made. His
nerves were proof against the appar-
ition of white rocks at the roadside,
locomotive whistles, and the whole
catalogue of equine terrors. Nothing
could induce him to break into run.
His best speed was a measured amble
"Go, go!-Billy!" the girl kept cry
ing, in the hope of arousing the animal
| from his chronic apathy.
1t was of no use. The clouds rose
| and thickened, and the wooded aisles
were pervaded by midnight gloom.
A gusty breeze sprang Up, soughing
| solemnly through the tree-tops, and
the distant muttering of thunder por-
| tended a summer storm.
II can surely reach home before it
Hains," Millie assured herself.
And to brace up her waning cour-
age, she began humming again.
Then, as if to show what a helpless
creature she could be in the hands Of
| a perverse fate, something about the
! harness went ''twang," and Billy came
! to dead halt.
Il wonder if it is one of the traces
or hold-back!' Millie exclaimed,
peering over the dashboard.
| But she could see absolutely nothing
! save Billy's uncouth outlines.
Something must have given way.
| And-oh, dear, don't dare to get out
| to fad ont the troubled"
just then she beheld the figure of a
man stalk forth from the deeper shad-
ows of the trees-a tall man, who
carried something over his shoulder
! that might have been gun, and
| whose heavy boots made a dumping
| sound as he advanced to the side of
the wagon and peered up at the
shrinking occupant.
"Eh, a young lady!' he exclaimed,
and he took off his broad
straw hat, adding, in deferential
| tone; Il beg pardon, really, but was
about to request a ride as far as the
next house. Didn't think of it being
lady. Hope | didn't frighten youP"
"N-now Mile faltered, for she was
trembling like an aspen leaf.
I'm Paul Bronson, the civil en-
gineer who is surveying for the new
railway line, and I'm peaceably dis
posed" he explained. They said l
could find board at one Martin
Leaver's, first house beyond the strip
of woods. It"
Il am Mr.. Leaver's daughter, Millie
interrupted, her heart giving great
| throb of relief.
Then, if you don't mind, I'll share
the wagon-seat with you, for / see it
is made for two." and the ardacious
Mr.. Bronson planted one heavy boot
on the step.
mo, no." cried Millie.
He drew back, staring at her in sur
prise at the decisive repulse.
Something about the harness has
broken she rapidly explained, not
wishing him to think her ungracious
even for moment.
"Ohw
He hastily investigated, and then
said, as he complacently mounted the
high seat:
"a hold back unhitched-that is all.
Drive along, if you please! Rather dark
along here-isn't it, Miss Leaver?"
I'm not very timid," said Millie,
courageously.
Il should say not, if you are in the
habit of driving through these woods
alone in the evening", returned Mr..